Mrs. Greene nodded. “The FBI delved into everything, from our personal life to Marty’s and my business associates.”
“We appreciate that, Mrs. Greene,” Honor said. “What I’d like to do is start with Drenda. Tell us about your daughter.”
Seth stayed quiet as Honor led the couple through a discussion of their oldest daughter. Her soft voice and open-ended questions soothed even as she dug deeply into Drenda’s personal life.
With tears and a smile, Evelyn Greene talked about how she and her husband had despaired of ever having children and the moment they’d seen a photograph of the Hispanic baby girl who’d been put up for adoption, they’d fallen in love.
Marty Greene chimed in to brag about what a good daughter Drenda was and how she’d been such a good role model for her two younger siblings.
Two hours later, as they stood to leave, Seth felt as though they had a good understanding of the young woman. Drenda was quiet, somewhat shy, had a few close friends and no steady boyfriend. After eight years of lessons, she played piano like a dream and attended church regularly. She had an affinity with animals and planned to be a veterinarian. All of these things were important for victimology and determining a commonality to tie the disappearances together. Unfortunately, he still saw no real relationship between hers and Kelli’s disappearances. That gut feeling he’d had that they were related was fading fast.
After shaking both parents’ hands and assuring them that if any information about their daughter’s whereabouts became available, they would be contacted immediately, he and Honor went through the door and headed to their rental car.
Doing what he’d been taught to do from the time he was strong enough to handle a door of any kind, he opened the passenger door for Honor. She barely acknowledged the gesture, and Seth could tell something was on her mind that she wanted to discuss. He had an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what that something was. Not only were they on a wild goose chase, but they’d probably given hope to Drenda’s parents when there was no hope.
Seth got into the driver’s seat and put the key in the ignition. Instead of starting the engine, he looked over at her. “This is pointless, isn’t it?”
Turning to face him, her eyes dancing with excitement, she practically shouted her answer: “Are you kidding? We’re on to something, Seth, I know we are.”
eight
Seth stared blankly at Honor. It was obvious he’d missed the connection. He confirmed it with “We are?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Honor saw Mrs. Greene peeking out from beind the blinds of the living room. Since she didn’t want to get the woman too optimistic until she checked the information on the other missing girls—seeing them have an animated discussion might well do that—she said, “Let’s get out of here and I’ll tell you.”
Seth started the engine and pulled out onto the road. As he maneuvered through the subdivision, she collected her thoughts. This had to mean something … it had to.
The Greenes’ upscale neighborhood had a large park exclusively for the residents. They’d passed it on the way in, and Honor instinctively knew that was where Seth was headed. As he turned onto the paved parkway, she pondered her ability to read him after all these years. Which seemed odd, since she didn’t think she’d read him well when they were together.
He parked the car under a shade tree, turned off the ignition, and faced her. “Okay, what’d I miss?”
“Did you hear Mrs. Greene talk about how Drenda hadn’t liked the college she was attending the year before and transferred to a smaller school last year, just a couple of months before she disappeared?”
“Yeah … so?”
“That’s a similarity, Seth. Remember, Kelli did the same thing this year.”
The expression on his face wasn’t encouraging. “So what? Lots of kids can’t settle in one school and move to another to finish up. Two of my sisters did the same thing.”
“But it is a similarity … something that ties these girls closer together.”
“Hell, honey, that’s a stretch.”
She did her best not to show a reaction to his endearment. It meant nothing. Seth was from Texas. She used to live there, too, and had gotten called “honey,” “sugar,” and “darling” a hell of a lot more than “Honor.” It meant absolutely nothing. But when Seth said it, in that gravelly bedroom voice she remembered so well, her body took it a different way.
Pushing past the need, she said, “A stretch, but still something.”
“So, even though they have this similarity, how does it connect them? They went to different schools, all across the country.”
Refusing to be discouraged by his underwhelming response to her theory, Honor shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to call Jared and ask him to check. If he hears the same thing about Karen or Missy, it could very well mean the beginning of a new thread.”
Muttering under his breath with what sounded like a “Pollyanna” slur, Seth started the car and continued through the subdivision.
Honor pulled her phone from her purse and punched in speed dial for Jared. Until she heard differently, she was maintaining her optimism. Because right now, it was all they had.
Bloomington, Indiana
Jared took his time closing the cellphone and returning it to his pocket. The conversation with Honor should have eased his fury. Her disappointment had been palpable, reminding him that he wasn’t the only one who cared about finding these young women. Though it seemed a thousand miles past a long shot and barely a point to ponder, the fact that Missy Meads had never transferred from one college to another had seemed to deflate her optimism immensely.
“You want another soda?” a cheerful female voice asked.
The young woman, probably about Missy’s age, had a cheerleader’s enthusiasm in her voice. Pretty, bubbly, and way too damn perky, she flitted from table to table in the pizza parlor, like a butterfly stopping at flowers.
Carmen Endicott was the pizzeria’s newest employee, and judging by the lecherous glances of the two men who owned the joint, they were extremely satisfied with their selection. She had been a replacement for an employee both were happy to see leave, no matter how it was accomplished: Missy Meads.
For twenty minutes, while he pretended to enjoy the greasy pizza, he’d listened to the owners of the restaurant discuss Missy as if she were a stray dog that it would have been best to put down. Yes, she had worked there for two years and, yes, she was a competent employee, but she was shy, awkward with customers, and did nothing to make people want to come back to the restaurant. Certainly she was nothing like their new employee, Carmen.
That wasn’t what had set Jared off. He had no real issues with hiring attractive employees. That was the way of the world and their own business. What he didn’t like was the answer to his question about the photograph in Missy’s file. The only picture anyone had of this girl was atrocious.
Since Missy had no family or friends, her employers were the only people who might know about the photograph. After he’d heard them talk about her like she was little more than garbage, Jared figured they’d have a clue about the picture. Turned out he was right. The photograph had been taken just outside their door by one of the owners.
The man seemed proud of the picture and even chuckled when he saw it in Jared’s hand. “Yep, took that right after a snowstorm blew in one night. The girl didn’t have any chains on her tires and ended up in a ditch. She called and told me she was going to be late. I let that slide, even though it was stupid not to have chains on your tires in the middle of winter. But when she got here two hours later, looking like that, I couldn’t resist snapping the shot. Girl was butt ugly to begin with, but with all that mud and gunk all over her, she looked like some kind of swamp monster.”
Jared had turned the photograph facedown then, refusing to allow the bastard to laugh at it anymore. Wanting to get the full story, he asked quietly, “How did she get so muddy?”
He
shrugged. “Didn’t call a tow trunk and had to leave the car in the ditch. Ended up walking to work. Said she fell down a couple of times.” He grinned. “Looked more like a couple of dozen times to me.”
“Did no one here offer to help … maybe to pick her up?”
“Hell no, we got a strict policy here. If you can’t make it to work under your own steam, you’re out of a job.”
The man had been friendly up until Jared had asked softly, “And if Carmen called and told you the same story, would you have given her the same answer?”
Flushed with anger, the man said, “I think it’s time you left.”
“As soon as I finish my soda.”
The look Jared gave the man had the bastard backing away, saying, “Yeah … well, there’s no hurry. You stay as long as you need to.”
Disgusted with himself for shutting off an avenue of communication, Jared threw down money for his pizza and drink and walked out the door. Missy didn’t need him beating up her former employer because the guy was an asshole. She needed to be found, along with the other girls.
Once outside, Jared took a cleansing breath. He’d learned long ago to compartmentalize, separating his thoughts from his actions. Working for a government agency few people knew existed had honed those skills. The last few years, though, he’d gotten soft. Being married, working as an investigator for Kane Enterprises, he had lowered his defenses, allowed himself to grow weak. That life was behind him now. The longer he worked for LCR, the harder he could feel himself becoming again. He wasn’t there yet, as evidenced by his overreaction to Missy Meads’s circumstances. But the hardness would return.
Cocooning himself into a world where only adrenaline and the thrill of the next op existed, he would return to the coldhearted, hard-edged bastard he’d once been. He looked forward to the day when he once more didn’t give a damn.
Seth had barely sat down in his chair across from Honor before he said, “I’m sorry I called you ‘honey’ before.”
Honor lowered the menu she held, her golden-green eyes sparkling with humor. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called worse. Besides, I’ve lived in the South a lot; you get used to those words.”
“What states have you worked in besides Texas?”
“Georgia and South Carolina. My last assignment was in Minneapolis.”
Remembering her love for sunshine and warm temperatures, he grinned. “Bet you nearly froze to death.”
She scrunched her nose. “Yeah, a little too cold for my blood.”
“How long have you been working for LCR?”
“A little over two months.”
“I figured you for an FBI lifer.”
She shrugged and dropped her gaze. “I needed a change.”
Didn’t take a menu smacked over his head to tell him he was getting into territory she didn’t want to go to. No one had ever accused him of treading softly. “Did you leave because of the close call?”
Sighing, she put the menu down and leaned forward. “Listen, I’ll be glad to share all the things I’ve been doing for the last five years. Spill my guts, tell you all my secrets. I’ll even try to remember what I had for breakfast for the past one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five mornings if you’ll tell me one thing.”
Stupid, but it took every ounce of self-control not to cup that beautiful face in his hands and cover the delicate snarl on her lips with his mouth. No one could ever accuse Honor of treading softly, either. One of the many things he admired about her.
Though he figured he already knew, he asked anyway. “What’s that one thing?”
“Why the hell do you think you have the right to know anything about me?”
She had him there. He had no rights when it came to her. Had given all of them up to do a job. She had every reason to be pissed, but what was done was done.
“You’re right, I don’t.”
He almost thought she would drop it and not say anything else … she had looked that angry. Finally, she said quietly, “Why, Seth?”
Before he could answer, their waiter came to the table. Honor gave her order and as he gave his, she sipped her martini and seared him with that direct gaze that always fired his blood.
After the waiter left, Seth took a long swallow of his iced tea and suddenly wished he didn’t hate the taste of alcohol. Anything to get him through the next few minutes.
“Letting you go was one of the—”
She raised her hand. “Let me stop you right there. If you say that letting me go was one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do, I’m getting up and leaving.”
“Do you want answers or not?”
She nodded.
“Then let me talk. Okay? I hated letting you go, but it was the only thing I could do.”
“Why?”
“You remember Hector Clemmons?”
“Of course. I understand the man finally ended up in prison.”
“He did. I helped to put him there.”
Eyes wide with shock, she leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
“I was undercover.”
“You’re saying you were still a cop when we were together?”
“Yes.”
“What about your restaurant?”
“It was mine, but I had some help getting it started. The restaurant was my cover.”
“What was your job?”
“To infiltrate, get as close as I could, earn his trust, and then use every means possible to bring him down.”
“If that’s what you did, why wasn’t your name mentioned in the news? I didn’t follow the case closely, but I know your name would have caught my attention.”
“For one, to protect my family. Even in prison, Clemmons still had contacts. I didn’t want to risk them. And by the time it was done, I was so sick of the shit, I wanted nothing to do with it. I just wanted out. Getting credit was the last thing on my mind.”
Publicly acknowledging his involvement would have meant interviews, speculation … questions. Dredging up memories that he’d give any amount of money to forget.
She went quiet for several moments. Seth withstood her intense scrutiny, figuring if she got up from the table and wanted to kick his ass, she had the right. Just because he wouldn’t have done anything different didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to be both furious and hurt.
Finally she broke the silence with probably the hardest question she could have asked. “When did the job start?”
He shrugged. “The setup took several months. I—”
“But well before you and I met, though. Right?”
Seth nodded, already knowing what was coming.
“You knew you were going to end it with me before we even started seeing each other, didn’t you?”
“I knew it was a good possibility.”
“And yet you pursued it anyway. Why, Seth?”
What could he say? Anything he said was sure to set her off, because he had no excuse for pursuing her. Hell, what was the point in trying to be evasive? She already despised him. “Because I wanted you.”
She laughed. Not her usual pretty, soft laugh, but a hard, angry sound. “That’s just great. So I guess once you’d had enough, you figured it was time to end it.”
“No, that’s not the reason.” He’d had years to think about this. Even though he never figured he’d get the chance to explain, the least he could do was have words prepared that weren’t going to crush her all over again.
“Then why?”
“Because each day the job became more dangerous and complicated. Clemmons thought I killed a man for him. I didn’t, but having that kind of reputation with him …” He shook his head. “I couldn’t take the risk that he’d ask me to do something to you, just as a show of loyalty or because he thought he could get away with it. He would have used you any way he could.”
“I was an FBI agent. You could have told me the truth. Or did you not trust me?”
“Of course I trusted you, but what g
ood would telling you have done?”
She stood and dropped her napkin onto the table. Shoulders straight, with the dignity she wore so well wrapped tightly around her, she said quietly, “You wouldn’t have broken my heart … that’s what good it would have done.”
Her movements jerkier than she would have liked, Honor turned away from the table, from Seth’s too knowing eyes, and made her way swiftly out of the restaurant. Tears swam, blurring her vision, but she’d be damned if Seth saw them fall.
Okay, so getting up and stomping out the door didn’t exactly scream “mature woman totally over her man,” but it beat sitting there, sobbing into her salad.
Ignoring the couple that joined her in the elevator, she focused on the floor numbers as they flashed. Once she got to her room, she could lock herself away, have her little pity party in private, and then it would be over. She’d get back to work on this case and forget that once again, with barely any effort at all, Seth had managed to crush her.
The dinging of the elevator door opening was a welcome relief. Just a few more steps to her room and she could let go. Key card in hand, she inserted the device into the slot and pushed the door open.
“Honor.”
The breath whooshed from her body. Dammit, he’d taken the next elevator. Refusing to face him, to let him see the pain, she spoke to the door. “Let it go, Seth.”
“Hell … I can’t let it go. You don’t know what it did to me, letting you go—”
Whirling around, she snapped, “Did to you?” She shook her head, barely able to make out his face for the tears blurring her eyes. “No, you don’t get to be sad or hurt. You’re the one who made the decision for both of us. I slept beside you for almost three months. I gave you more than I’d ever given any man, and you just threw it away.”
Instead of walking away or telling her to stop behaving like a wimp, he moved closer and nudged her body. The door behind her swung open and Honor stumbled into the room. Seth came in after her.
“What are you—”
His mouth slammed down onto hers.
Honor grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer, holding him tight. Her tears still falling, she tasted them, along with Seth. So long. Dear God, it had been so long.
Sweet Justice Page 9